Dark Bride
by aranenumenesse
Summary: Adam and Terra find a deeper connection, but not everything is alright in their world.
1. Chapter 1

She's watching him when he sleeps. Keeps reading the diary of a dead man. There are bits and pieces of eight different men scattered in one, laying half comatose on the bed in front of her. Wound on his back stopped bleeding as soon as she put in the last stitches and aside from nasty bruises here and there he seems to be fine. Whether his exhaustion is due to some internal injury that'll slowly but surely kill him or if it's just born from stress of the battle she really can't tell. She can only wait and watch, keep reading the diary and learn more of the man-made man in front of her.

He's a restless sleeper once coma-like status gives way to normal dreams. He keeps tossing and turning, twisting his torso and crunching up the hapless pillow that's about to expel the cheap styrofoam filling at any possible night. She gets a good look of the scars crisscrossing his torso and arms. He keeps his hands covered, and sleeps with shoes and trousers on. She'd like to map those scars with her fingertips, count all the pieces. He'd let her, that she's sure of. Look in his eyes, the way he keeps her at arm's length and the state of his pitiful apartment tell the grim tale of a two hundred years worth of loneliness. She almost cried when he leaned in to the needle when it pierced his skin, desperate for any kind of touch, while she was stitching his back.

It's closer to dawn when she finally picks up the courage to close the gap between her and Adam. He's fast asleep when she walks to him and sits carefully on the edge of the bed. She waits for him to stir in his sleep, but when he stays still she reaches with her hand. Her palm is hovering just inches away from his shoulder. Even from this distance she can feel warmth radiating from him. He's very much alive, not cool and clammy as she would have expected from a corpse of his age. Scars feel cooler and slick compared to much coarser skin, especially those marking the lines where Frankenstein stitched all the parts of him together. Smaller scars are newer in comparison, uneven and crinkled. They're Adam's doing. He can't very well just go to a doctor when he gets hurt, and in his line of life a person is bound to get hurt often.

She waits for Adam to wake up at any moment now, her fingers dancing over his skin must tickle, but he keeps his eyes closed. She might be feeling up a real corpse aside of pulse that's ticking at the side of his throat. She traces her finger over that vein, down his clavicle and over his chest, finding almost palm-wide scar from his side. That's where doctor Frankenstein put in lungs and heart she realizes, remembering that small detail from the diary she finished just moments ago. She leans closer, trying to see if there's any traces, any indicators of what the good doctor used to put Adam together. Then all of a sudden Adam is wide awake, his strong hands clutching her biceps and his eyes boring in to hers.

"It has been a while, but I think I remember how it's done..." He whispers, warmth creeping in to his gaze and to his gravelly voice. Then she isn't sitting up anymore. She's on her back in the bed, Adam half on top of her, his lower body resting comfortably between her legs and his face nuzzling her neck and breasts. She places her trembling hands on top of his head, sliding her fingers through sleep-tangled, uneven hair, trying to comprehend what is happening.

"Adam.." She calls his name. He stops nibbling her throat and turns to look at her, crawling higher on the bed untill they're face to face and he's cradling her face between his wide palms as if she's the most precious thing in the whole wide world. She can feel his heart. Steady pounding matching hers. Adam stays still, waiting for her to finish.

"You don't have to... I didn't touch you because I wanted..." She's stammering. Adam leans in and his lips land on hers, his tongue seeking entry.

"I want you... And I think you want this..."He murmurs in to the kiss and she really can't deny the truth. Not when his hips gyrate between her thighs and she can feel his rigid cock through three layers of cloth. Not when he keeps nibbling, suckling and basically devouring her with his kisses. Not when he tears off clothes almost desperately, his hands roaming all over her body, stopping only to appreciate places that he finds soft or otherwise interesting.

She has had lovers before, but never before has she felt this completely needed, wanted and appreciated. Adam doesn't wait for permission, doesn't ask what she would like to do. He doesn't try to impress her with the latest tricks in the market. It's simple. He just wants this. Need is written all over his features when he wraps her in to his embrace and places a soothing kiss on her forehead before plunging in to her. He's careful, giving her time to adjust, but he's also old-fashioned. He doesn't expect her to do much else than kiss him back and hang on as he guides her towards fulfillment, and when it's over he rolls on his back and tucks her firmly to his side, telling her to go to sleep because it'll be morning soon and they both need to rest. Following day and night prove him to be right.

XXX

Demons vanquished. Gargoyles only a memory. She's living in the wilderness with Adam. They tried big cities, really tried all of them. Adam was doing just fine. Adapting without really adapting, disappearing rather than mingling in to the crowds. She was having trouble in believing that it was truly over. She kept twisting and turning, afraid of shadows, afraid of everything untill Adam decided that they had to move.

"You'll go crazy if we keep going like this," he said, holding her, assuring her with his touch.

"Maybe I am crazy already... What would you do? What could you do if I was crazy?" She asked with quivering voice, clinging to the lapels of his jacket. Adam kissed the top of her head, cradling her to his chest. Just few moments ago she had fled from the subway, dead on sure that most, if not all the passengers were of demonic origin. She had locked herself to a public restroom and called to Adam.

"You're not crazy, Terra. You're a scientist. There's a rule about that. Rich and smart people are never crazy..."

"Huh? I just told you that I thought that all of those people were demons. That is crazy, Adam!"

"No. You're rich and smart. You're not crazy. You're eccentric," Adam said smiling, then handed her a thick envelope. Plane tickets, passports and a deed to a large estate in remote location somewhere that sounded somewhat european. Couple of days later she found herself from the middle of english countryside, as a lady of a dilapidated castle and a formidable plot of land far away from everything.

First few weeks were rough on her. She was born and raised in the city, so the lack of modern necessities was frustrating, but soon she learned to cope. At the end of the third week she was simply amazed at how pampered life she had lived. End of the fourth week she was actually satisfied that daily chores kept her entertained. End of the fifth week marked the arrival of dark clouds and bad omens...

XXX

Adam had rummaged through closets and old travel trunks in the attic. She found him there, sitting in a corner, hunched over a book. He wasn't actually reading it, but staring at the cover. When she walked closer he flinched as if expecting her to attack him, eyes wide and small beads of sweat gathering over his brows.

"What is it?" She asks. Adam is unable to speak. Instead he hands her the book. It is old, leather-bound thick volume. Decorative letter F is forged on the cover with gold.

"What is this?" Terra asks, her voice a mere whisper. Adam shakes his head, then seems to find his voice again.

"Bride. Victor did it. It's all in the book."

Cold gust of wind suddenly sweeps in from a broken window, but it has nothing to do with the chill that slowly but surely rises from the pit of Terra's stomach. Adam looks at the book in her hand, reaches for it, then decides otherwise and lets her hold on to it.

"He did it. At first I thought that it was just a preliminary plan, first draft, but then I flipped the last page. It's alive, Terra. Alive and alone somewhere out there."

"What are you going to do? Should we... Shouldn't we look for her?" Terra asks, horribly unsure all of a sudden.

"I don't know. I don't even know if it's alive anymore..." Adam hesitates.

"But isn't this what you have wanted all these years? She's like you..."

"It's nothing like me if that book is real. It's... It's evil. It's better, it's almost a real human in body, but Victor used a demon to animate it."

Terra sits down slowly and thumbs through the journal. Page after page writing, meticulous drawings and descriptions of medical and unnatural procedures. Final passage is written with hurried hand, words of incantation that would draw the demon in to the vessel that was prepared for it.

"All these years I have been wondering... Living in hope, fearing that he never finished his plan..." Adam speaks, his voice soft whisper rasping at the back of his throat. Then he chuckles mirthless, turning to look at the darkening sky outside.

"Now I know how alone I really am. There's no other in this world," he spits out the rest of the sentence which is choking him. Terra is about to reach for him, offer consolation, but she soon realizes that Adam is right. She could offer him her whole being but eventually she'd die. Adam would be left alone, void of any purpose but to do battle against demon hordes for the rest of eternity. She is overcome with conflicting emotions. Love for Adam, guilt and grief for his inevitable abandonment and rage for cruel destiny.

At the beginning of their relationship they had one night of physical intimacy, but after that Adam had settled for his role as her protector, casting everything else aside. They hadn't talked about it, it just happened. Terra isn't sure if it is his way of honoring his fallen gargoyle companions, or if he still hopes to find a kindred spirit, eternal bride of Frankenstein's creation, to his side. Both are valid reasons for abstinence so she hasn't questioned Adam's decision of separate bedrooms.

"Everybody dies. One day I will cease to exist, but I feel that it won't happen soon enough. Maybe God is punishing me for the lives I took. Maybe this is Victor's doing. Maybe Satan's... I don't know. I just know that I'm tired..." Adam says with a hushed tone, his eyes still fixed to the dark sky where first stars of the night are glimmering brightly. Moon casts an eerie glow over his face, coloring the web of scars almost silver and deepening the shadows around his eyes.

"You were waiting for her. Weren't you?" Terra asks. Adam swallows, then turns to look at her.

"I have been waiting for her over two hundred years," he says.

"What about us? What happened..."

"Yes. It happened. I'm not proud of it. If it's any consolation, I wasn't going to leave you, no matter what. But you'll die one day. I just assumed that there would have been somebody for me, somebody who wasn't going to leave me."

"Is that why we came here? Is it because of her that you don't want me anymore?" Terra asks, fearing but wanting to know the truth. Adam frowns.

"We came here because you needed to get away from people," he says, then gets somewhat flustered.

"I... I want you. My feelings haven't changed, Terra," he then stammers.

"Why different rooms, then? Why are you keeping me away from you?" She asks.

"I have been waiting for you. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I told you that you could come to me if you needed anything."

It makes perfect sense. Adam, as all his parts as well, has been born into a very different world, to era when sexuality was considered taboo. For him it would be unheard of to propose anything even remotely sexual. Especially considering the nature of their relationship. If there even is a relationship to speak of.

"Do you... Would you mind sharing a bed with me from now on?" Terra asks. Adam looks hesitant.

"You'd want me to?" He asks. Terra nods, feeling crimson coloring flashing all over her cheekbones. Adam cups her cheek with his palm, his thumb sweeping over the blush gently.

"You'd forget and forgive?" He asks, strange expression on his face. Deathly serious, as if he is facing a demon instead of the scientist he inadvertently drew in to his world. Terra understands. He's not asking for forgiveness, Adam isn't seeking absolution. He's curious about what she's thinking about the possible existence of a bride, and Adam's earlier determination of seeking her despite of his commitment to Terra. She seeks his eyes and holds her gaze steady, almost mimicking his own expression.

"I'm not going to forgive or forget. There's nothing to forgive, and I think we both better remember Eve. It's less of a surprise if she decides to seek you out..."

XXX

Their journey through the castle feels eternal when in reality castle is quite small, manor would probably be more appropriate term for it. Terra is feeling jittery and anxious. Adam at her side shows no greater emotions, but grabs her hand to his own and places a soft kiss to her palm at the door of the master bedroom. Then he scoops her on to his arms.

"You carried me the last time we slept in one bed. I think it's supposed to be the other way around..." He explains and shoulders the door open.

Room is a mess. Once decorative curtains and Gobelins hang in moldy tatters. Window is broken. Several mice seem to occupy the underside of a bed that looks to be ready to collapse if they're as much as sneeze near it. Adam really didn't plan to use it in the near future, Terra realizes. Everywhere else in the castle they have cleaned up and repaired everything that's dirty or broken.

Adam places her carefully on to the bed. Moon looms right outside the window, luminating her. He then proceeds to gather curtains, canvases and debris littering the floor and walls and throws them in to large fireplace at the foot end of the bed. There's a pile of old logs next to fireplace. He looks at Terra questioningly.

"No. Light is better this way," she whispers.

To her Adam isn't ugly by any standards. Victor Frankenstein did one favor for his creation. He used time and considered carefully which parts to use. Everything is well proportioned. Even with scars Adam looks good. In the moonlight they give him an otherwordly appearance. He sheds his jacket and it falls to the floor with loud clatter. Even here he carries the batons that gargoyles gave to him. Next to go is the hoodie. T-shirt underneath is worn an snug, sitting on him like a second skin. Terra actually tried to shop him new clothes, until he stopped her by telling her that he had no need for them. Now she's able to appreciate the dance and ripple of his muscles as he tugs the hem of the shirt from his trousers and lifts it over his head, discarding it to the same pile with jacket and the hoodie. He leaves trousers, boots and gloves on and approaches her slowly.

She's wearing a simple t-shirt, sensible bra, jeans and equally sensible cotton panties. Adam undresses her as if she wore something straight out of Victoria's secret, stopping to caress and nuzzle every exposed inch of skin. She takes this opportunity and learns again the map of the scars over his whole being with her hands, getting rid of heavy boots and trousers. When she tugs the glove on his left hand Adam stops her.

"Leave it..." He croaks with voice thick of lust and wanting. Then, bolder than she has ever seen him, he takes her hand and guides it to his erection. She grabs it gently, feeling the steely heat and his heartbeat on a throbbing vein underside of it. When Adam kisses her she strokes him. His fingers find the juncture of her thighs. She's ready for him, but he keeps prolonging the contact, letting only the tips of his fingers to dance over her with feather like caresses. When she tries to intensify the contact by moving he simply moves away from her, returning touching only when she calms down. All the while she's all over him, grazing his skin with her teeth, licking and kissing every muscle, tendon and scar she can reach. He's slowly but surely driving her crazy. Only when she's whimpering incoherently and really biting in to him he finally allows her some reprieve and parts her lower lips, sliding a finger over her clitoris. She explodes into mind numbing orgasm that leaves her breathless and wanting for more.

Adam gives her space and time to float on the bliss. He seems content on watching as she steadies her breath. Rare and fleeting smile tugs the corners of his mouth briefly. She could spend eternity just watching him. She still remembers bits and pieces of Frankenstein's journal. He didn't go in to great detail about which parts of his creation came from where, but his eyes and the top of his skull were of a young priest who had died while defending his parish from marauding group of soldiers. She likes to think that there's a tiny part of that priest still left, welded in to Adam's soul. Adam's hands are gentle. They're in his command now, but Terra understands why he likes to keep them covered. They came from a convicted murderer, and Adam has taken a life of a young innocent woman with them. She takes his hand to her own, raising it higher and letting the moon dance over the dull leather of the glove. She then pulls it closer and kisses his knuckles, raising a gasp from Adam who grabs her and pulls her on top of him.

She can feel his hard length sliding along her crevice. It goes in effortlessly, filling the void left of her earlier orgasm. Adam lets her take the charge and choose the rhythm. She finds it by listening his breathing. She can feel his heart thumping underneath her palms when she leans on his chest. It's his turn to gasp and moan. He's tearing handfuls of brittle sheet, grasping the ornamental headboard as if in great pain, eyes closed and lips parted, writhing and shivering under her ministrations. He seems determined to make it last, whenever he's about to fall over the edge he steadies her hips so that they can keep climbing towards higher peak. When she tires he flips them over, taking the lead. He keeps his eyes locked in to hers, letting her see how much this means for him. There's no mere love in those dark depths, but deep devotion. His whole existence depends on her. There's no other. There's nothing else in the whole wide world for Adam but her.


	2. Chapter 2

Terra stands frozen to the spot. Kitchen in front of her lays in ruins. Cabinets and countertops which Adam spent tedious weeks preparing and restoring, solid marble floor she cleaned up and polished, decorative walls, pots and pans, china... Everything scattered, smashed to pieces and smeared with various contents of their pantry. Adam is still sleeping, he never gets up early in the morning if it isn't absolutely necessary, and now the bedroom feels like it's miles away, on the other side of the earth. Whoever broke in and destroyed the place is probably long gone now, but Terra can't shake the nasty feeling of being watched. She has learned to cope with pretty much everything and hates to depend on Adam, but now she has no choise but to scream his name from the top of her lungs. Sanctity of their fortress has been violated, peace is broken, and in no time Adam bursts in, his eyes scanning their surroundings, making detailed inventory of everything relevant before he turns to Terra.

"Did you see it?" He asks, pulling Terra to his side. Terra shakes her head.

"Who... Who did this?" She asks, flashes of demons dancing at the back of her mind. But they wouldn't have stopped to refurbish a kitchen. They would have torn down the whole building in their haste to retrieve Adam and Terra.

"I don't know. But I will find out," Adam promises, lets go of her and crouches to pick up a porcelain plate, seemingly the only survivor of the attack. He throws it and it lands on to the floor exploding to tiny fragments.

"Breakfast is outside," he then says, pointing to the kitchen garden behind the window.

"I'll start sorting out this mess. Get something to eat first."

Terra steps over the rubble carefully and opens the door, half expecting something to grab her as soon as she steps in to the sun outside. She knows that Adam is watching. Observing. He's her protector, but he really isn't the coddling mother hen. He needs her to be alright. He doesn't want to turn her to a wilting flower that's scared of her own shadow.

"I think I'll have some carrots," she says out loud, giving the impression that she stopped only to ponder what to eat. She can't revert back being overly hysterical damsel in distress. Behind her she can hear loud clatter of debris being pushed over the floor.

Garden is walled in, only way in and out is the kitchen door. Walls are three meters tall and thick. They were built to fend off attackers. Here she can actually relax. Rows of carrots, turnips and potatoes wait for picking. Small patch of herbs and lonely bush of blood-red roses color the air with their fragrance. She stops at the end of bench of carrots, then decides otherwise and walks to a small apple tree. It's old and gnarled, apples are small and sour, but all of a sudden she craves them far more than a carrot she would have to wash before eating. She finds two apples, ripe for picking. She sits under the tree, chews on the apple and lets her tears flow. She knows Adam can see her through the window, but it doesn't matter. He'll come to her when she's good and ready. He knows how much she needs this. Time of her own to grieve over what's lost.

Adam is more practical. He probably is disappointed that all his hard work is ruined, but in reality it doesn't matter. He has had centuries to learn to cope with setbacks. In some level he might actually be pleased that there's something to do other than daily basic chores. Victor Frankenstein built him as an experiment, but left him without a purpose. He didn't start hunting demons because of age-old grudge nor some strange, newly developed altruistic trait. He did it because demons were bugging him, but mostly because he could. It is the same with the castle, and now with the kitchen. For so many decades he had searched for a reason for his existence. Repairing the ruined kitchen is something he can do, and there is an added bonus. It will help to soothe Terra's nerves. She is getting better each day they spend here, but she is still fragile. As easily broken as the plate of china Adam broke earlier.

He puts down the batons he grabbed when Terra's scream woke him up. Rolls up his sleeves. Takes a good look of his surroundings. There really is no need for finesse. Everything is broken and ruined. Crouching down he grabs armfuls of wood, dented copper pots and pans and carries them out through second outer door of the kitchen. Stable, small shed for chickens, a pond for geese, and at the furthest corner of the walled in yard a small shed. In there he spent countless hours building and repairing. He can do it again. He lays the rubble down to a pile in front of the shed. He'll sort it all out later. Copper is good, strong but soft material. It's easy to hammer kettles, pots and pans back to shape. As for the cabinets... He'll have to find more wood and he can start building.

Empty yard makes his spine tingle. He still remembers what it was like two centuries ago. Victor had been forced to sell most of his possessions to fund his experiments, but there were couple of horses, a cow and some pigs. Panicked whinnying of a horse was the first sound Adam heard upon waking up, shortly followed by a clap of thunder.

Dark and empty stall opening directly to the yard holds a strange lure. Adam is drawn to it. Floor is bare earth, hard as stone and riddled with marks of hooves. Nobody's visited here after he escaped and let loose all the animals. Air feels cool and fresh. He can hear mice and rats scurrying around in the shadows. Then something else. A sound so silent that he's really not sure if it isn't just his own beating heart. He backs away from the darkness, in to the light. Stable doesn't feel right. And besides, he still has a lot to do, kitchen won't straighten up on itself.

Terra finishes apples and wipes the tears from her cheeks. She digs a small hole on to the ground near the apple tree and buries the cores of the fruits. With any luck seeds will grow.

When she enters the kitchen Adam is gathering last pieces of the broken furniture.

"How bad is it" Terra asks. Adam shrugs his shoulders.

"I don't have to chop wood for the stove today. We can burn what's left of the cabinets if you feel like cooking something."

"Do you have any idea who did this?" She asks. Adam shakes his head.

"I can tell who it wasn't. But I guess you figured it out yourself already. If Naberius and his hordes got back, they wouldn't have bothered with the kitchen."

"What if they come back at night?"

"I was going to stay awake. If they come back, they're in for a surprise," Adam promises.

"They're probably just kids from the village. I found some footprints outside," he hastily ads. It's a lie. Adam knows full well that Terra doesn't believe him, but it is the best explanation he can offer. There's nothing, no indicat

ion of the identity of the trespasser to be found.

"I'll start with new cabinets today, I think some of the doors can be salvaged," he says.

"What about that small kitchen at the back of the stable? Couldn't we just use that? It just needs a bit of cleaning up..."

"No. We're not going in to stable," Adam grounds out sternly and walks away with what is left of the cabinets.

Following days and nights fly past without incidents. Terra is ready to write off the intrusion as irrelevant. It happened, but they're getting ahead with the new kitchen. Adam is growing increasingly agitated, spending days in the shed, creating beautifully crafted furnitures out of scraps and thin air as it seems to Terra. He doesn't sleep. He really doesn't have to sleep often, but he's gotten used to it and lack of it grates his nerves. Lack of sleep must be the sole reason for his sour mood Terra decides, because nothing else has changed.

He's sitting on a bright patch of sun right outside of the shed, his eyes fixed to the door of the stable. Hinges of it are a bit lopsided so it won't shut properly. The longer he spends staring at it, hanging slightly ajar, more it gets on him. It's slowly dawning on him that he's afraid of it. Afraid of the darkness behind it. He stands up and picks the hammer. Grabs a handful of sturdy nails. Walks to the door with stiff legs, small hairs at the back of his neck bristling, rising as if he were facing a formidable threat. Angry and frustrated, unable to understand his reaction towards the building he slams the door forcibly shut and secures it in place with nails, driving them in with such force that they disappear in to wooden frame altogether.

Task completed. Threat eliminated. But for some reason he can't make himself turn his back to the door. He backs away from it slowly, seeking the illusion of safety from the rickety shed and scent of freshly sawed wood.

Fear is something he understands well. It's ingrained in to his very core, alongside with rage. They go hand to hand, forcing him to move and react. It took him decades to reign them, and now both are running rampant through his veins and pounding heart. All because of a small noise he may, or may not have heard. Somebody whispering his name in the deepest shadow of the stable.

Sun is setting. Terra keeps watching at the door of the shed. Adam has been cooped up in there all day. She tried calling him earlier, walked to the door and knocked on it. He wouldn't open the door, claimed that he was preparing a surprise for her. Soon he'd had to come out. They had taken the habit of locking all the doors and barricading them before Terra went to bed. It was Adam's idea, but for Terra it had sounded a good one. She isn't sure about it anymore. Almost a week has passed from the attack, and nothing has happened. Still Adam insists that it's better to be safe than sorry. So she sits at the doorway, sun creeping lower on the reddening sky and waits for Adam. It's unnerving, but at the same time strangely comforting. She knows that at any minute now he will step out, stretching his back and pretending to be all tired and worn out. She knows it takes a lot more to wear Adam out than simple tasks of a carpenter, but it's nice to know that he's willing to put up a show of normalcy, if not for else, at least to give her an impression that they're alike.

She thinks of Adam as a man, but every now and then she's forced to acknowledge the fact that he's more than a normal man. He doesn't need to sleep or eat very often. He's strong. Not a Superman but strong enough to overpower demons. He heals from scrapes and bruises in hours. Real, bleeding wounds and broken bones? Few days in bed and he's as good as new. She doesn't understand how Victor Frankenstein was able to create such a marvel from a collection of stolen body parts and electricity, on an era when even basic medicine was considered witchcraft, but she's grateful of Adam. He's loyal to the fault, considerate and gentle, and most of the time everything Terra could need in this world.

Footsteps echoing behind her in the castle wake her from her musings. She stands up, wiping small speckles of dust from her palms. When did Adam came in? And how did he get past her? She takes a step in, then hastily backs out realizing that it isn't Adam, can't be Adam because the door of the shed is opening and he's just stepping out of there.

"Somebody's in the castle!" She shouts a warning. Adam straightens his back immediately. He's reaching for his weapons but his hands grasp for air. Batons are in their bedroom, it has been so quiet so long that it felt rather foolish to carry them around.

"Wait here," he says and enters the kitchen.

Minutes pass. They're longest minutes in Terra's remembered life. She's holding her breath when Adam finally returns carrying his weapons.

"There's nobody in there."

"But I heard footsteps..."

"They probably left when you called me," Adam says. He means every word he says, Terra can see it in his eyes. Still, she has to be sure.

"You do believe me, don't you?" She asks. Adam nods.

"Probably the same group of brats that broke the kitchen. Came to see what else they could do, got scared when we were awake. Nothing to worry about..." He tries his best to keep the tone of his voice light.

"Just kids from the village. On their bikes," Terra plays along, but her act isn't as convincing. She's not as trained in the finer art of denial as Adam.

"this place has been deserted so long. They probably didn't even know that we're here," Adam says, then chokes out a croak that reminds distantly laughter.

"Well, they have bunch of new ghost stories to spread around... And we have some doors to lock. We better get going so that you can go to sleep."

Neighter of them comments the fact that all doors besides those leading out from the kitchen are already locked. Many nights Terra has complained when Adam has pulled a chair in front of the door of the bedroom to sit on instead of coming in to bed with her, but not tonight. When full moon lights the room with silvery ray Adam sits at the center of it, batons at hand. Only sign of life is the small vein at the side of his throat, partially marred with a scar, pulsing steadily to the rhythm of his heart.


	3. Chapter 3

Waking up is strangely tedious process for Terra. Her limbs are numb and she feels cold. Her whole body feels heavy as lead. Eyelids are caked over with something crusty and sticky, and when she lifts a shaky hand to wipe them clean she can hear soft clink of a metal chain. As soon as the voice registers she can feel a thick iron manacle around her wrist, and she remembers. Remembers how Father, in his anger, brought her down here and chained her to the wall. Remembers the sound of his footsteps as he left the room almost running. Remembers how the sound of the door slamming shut echoed deep inside of her chest long after the candle drowned in to a puddle of tallow, leaving her alone in to darkness.

She can hear the rats scurrying around on the moist stone floor, their sharp nails scratching and their small teeth chattering, whiskers curling in anticipation of a warm meal because it has been so long and they can smell her, they can smell her flesh and blood and there are so many of them, all of them swarming at her feet. Stench of rot emanating from the gauze covering her is driving them in to frenzy and they're screaming and grappling, tearing in to each other in their fevered need to feed...

Terra's bloodcurdling scream brings Adam up and a awake from his slumber. He isn't actually sleeping, but preserving the precious energy reserves he still has left. Now they're burning at alarming pace, his heart and brain presenting impossible demands to his sleep-deprived body. There's no detectable threat in the room, and first rays of the rising sun glimmering outside of the window help to ease down his first instinctual bout of panic. He places the batons he's been grasping in death grip on to the chair and goes to Terra who sits up abruptly. She's looking at him with dead eyes, her face a blank mask. Lonely tear rolls down her left cheek.

"Why did you leave me? Don't you love me anymore, Father?" She asks, her voice betraying the magnitude of desperation and disappointment, even shame that she's feeling. Adam sits to the edge of the bed hesitantly.

"Terra?" He calls her name. From the sound of his voice the spell breaks. Terra blinks, finally fully awake.

She stretches and yawns, small smile tugging the corners of her lips.

"I love waking up like this," she whispers. Adam frowns confused.

"First thing I see when I open my eyes is you. Should be like this every morning," Terra explains. Adam's frown grows deeper and he takes her hands in to his own. Her skin feels cold and clammy.

"You were having a nightmare earlier. Do you remember it?" He asks while reaching for a shawl from the bedside table. He wraps it around her shoulders and then urges her to lean on him. She's only happy to comply, now feeling the chill that has carried over from the dream world.

"No. I remember going to sleep. You were sitting over there, and I kept watching you. I was going to stay awake with you, but I must have drifted off. Next thing I know you were there. Why did you wake me? Has something happened?" Terra asks.

"You screamed in your sleep. Gave me a good scare, that's all. Must have been quite a nightmare..."

"It's a good thing that I don't remember it, then," Terra decides, her eyes seeking his.

"You look exhausted. You really should sleep."

Adam thinks about it. Nothing has happened during daylight. At least not before. He's skirting on the edge already, alluring promise of rest, peace and quiet would be easy to accept. Just a brief reprieve. He could close his eyes just for a moment. Even couple of hours would be enough to stop the tremors he can feel inside of him, in his spine, skull and muscle. But he knows for a fact that it'll be several days before it'll be absolutely necessary. He can go on for a little while longer, and he tells it to Terra. She isn't convinced and wrestles him on to bed, task too easy now when his treacherous body chooses to side with her. He keeps blinking his eyes, trying to force them to stay open. It's a battle he will lose. In his final act of defiance he pulls Terra to his side, securing her there with arm thrown around her waist.

"Stay... It's not safe out there..." He breathes out while falling in to abyss.

She squirms to a better position. His whole body is lax and heavy, weighing down on her. Her shield and armor against the strange occurrences. Dream smooths out the deep lines of worry from his face. He's completely unconscious, and she takes this opportunity to inspect his hands. Gloves fit snuggly, and it's apparent that he hasn't taken them off for a long while. Skin underneath the leather is almost deathly pale, heavy scarring at the back of the hands grey in comparison. Fingers are tanned and calloused. Hands made for work. Made for battle. Made for love. She turns his right palm upwards, tracing the mangled line of life and heart with her index finger. He grasps the finger reflexively, but doesn't wake up. She waits for him to release his grasp before continuing, finding the scars from his wrist and forearm. They're strangely crinkled and jagged in comparison to the rest of the scars covering him. She lifts his hand for a closer inspection. Stitchwork is new in comparison. It's not Victor's meticulous handwork. She twists and turns until she can reach his left hand. Scars are similar there. Crude and tangled mess and she can only wonder how Adam has so nimble fingers. She can feel hard lumps of cartilage in places where it shouldn't be.

Adam shifts in his sleep, murmuring softly under his breath. She can't make out the actual words. He sighs and burrows even closer to her, his face buried partly to the crook of her neck. His warm breath only intensifies the chills still racing up and down her spine. She's hungry and she really could use the bathroom. She could do it. If she's really careful, if she moves quickly enough... Fleeting thought of danger crosses her mind, but she shoves it aside. Sun is shining and birds are chirping outside. There's nothing to worry about. Even Adam would agree if he wasn't so blessedly tired. Before the voice of reason gets the chance to step in Terra slides quietly out of the bed and unlocks the door of the bedroom, intent on returning to Adam as soon as her current needs are satisfied.

At night, illuminated with moonlight and few candles, the castle feels ancient and imposing. Formidable fortress. Brightness of the day reveals the state of decay. Sturdy stone walls are crumbling in places. Roof needs fixing up, but Terra suspects that Adam doesn't have the heart to kick out small flock of swallows nesting at the rafters. Adam has replaced most of the broken windows but few remain. They're too far to reach without proper scaffolding.

Her bare feet make no sound on the cool, slightly dusty floor as she hurries through the corridors. Bathroom first, then breakfast. Bathroom is right next to the kitchen, most likely reserved for the kitchen staff back when the castle still had masters and servants. Basically it's just a nook on the wall, separated with a flimsy wooden wall from the corridor. There's a stone bench with a hole on it. Anything dropped in to that hole falls to the moat of the castle. At first she had felt uncomfortable and squeamish about it, but now it feels the most natural thing in the world. Amount of waste they produce won't be a problem even if they lived here centuries.

She hesitates at the door of the bathroom. It's dark in there. Her need to pee wins by a narrow margin and she steps in, her ears perked, ready to flee from the first suspicious sound. She leaves the door wide open to let some light in and sits down.

Door slams shut with such force that it rattles on its hinges.

All of a sudden her full bladder isn't really an issue. Labored sound of breathing echoing from the other side of the door is far more important.

"Adam?" Terra whispers, dread rising at the pit of her stomach. Feet she can see through the cracked boards of the door are bare and smaller than Adam's. They're unmistakably human, but nails have grown to proportions that normal movement is most likely seriously hindered.

Terra shuts her eyes, hoping that this is just some strange aspect of the nightmare Adam claimed her having earlier.

Silent scrape of nails on the stone floor, retreating footsteps. Terra keeps her eyes still shut and holds her breath until she's in complete silence again. When she opens her eyes the door swings slightly ajar, allowing a small sliver of sunlight in. There's no need to pee anymore. Stupid gust of wind and her overactive imagination emptied her bladder the moment she could hear something moving behind the door. She isn't hungry anymore. Sight of those feet, imaginary or not, made her loose her appetite. She hurries back to bedroom, finding Adam nearly comatose on top of blankets. She crawls next to him, grasps his arm and wrestles until she's partly buried under him. In safety. Sound of his heart and feel of it pulsing right next to hers alleviate the worst sting of fear and she's able to follow him in to dream.

There are no more dark clouds in the dreamscape, and she wakes up fresh and relaxed. Adam is still asleep. She knows he needs to rest, but she simply can't resist the temptation. She opens the laces of his boots and pulls them off, one by one. Adam shifts and grumbles but doesn't wake up. She climbs higher on the bed, finding a new dilemma. Boots were easy compared to the trousers. She opens the buttons carefully. This is supposed to be a pleasant wakeup call, she can't have him waking up too soon.

After a bit of maneuvering she has Adam nearly naked. And he's slowly clawing his way to this world. She'd better hurry. One last nudge and trousers fall to the floor. Luckily Adam isn't wearing any underwear. That would have ruined the whole thing.

No matter their surroundings or the horrors awaiting behind dark corners, Terra is spending her days in constant state of arousal. Se can't help it, it's her body telling her that long and lonely nights and dry seasons are over.

She climbs silently over Adam, shifting and grinding until she's straddling him. If the state of his cock is any evidence, he's aware of her actions at least on some basic, animalistic level. He's already hard and throbbing. She begins to lower herself on him, enjoying each and every inch. Adam's eyes open for the briefest of seconds and he lets out a guttural noise, then relaxes back on to the bed.

"Is this okay?" Terra asks, fearing for the possible no. She will surely explode if he denies this. Adam twists his head and grasps the sheets, his breath escaping with short huffs.

"...Yes..."

He keeps his eyes closed and his hands at his sides. Aside of his hitched breathing he could be sleeping. Terra doesn't mind. He's completely at ease now, gone to that special place reserved for those capable of continuous orgasm, and his cock is rubbing her from all the right places when she rides. She knows this can go on for hours. She wants this to last forever. There's nothing else in this world but this moment, she and Adam together.

Changing the angle of her hips she keeps finding all possible forms of pleasure. Adam is beginning to stir underneath her, his hands rising to cup her breasts. She can hear his surprised gasp, and Adam forces her to still the movement of her hips. She's sitting on him, his cock lodged to the hilt in to her. His eyes are seeking hers, then wander lower, down her face and neck, stopping at her breasts.

Milky white and silken skin of her breasts is a stark contrast to his mangled and torn hands. Whereas Terra's skin holds creamy and warm glow, whiteness of Adam's palms brings forth images from graveyards and coffins. He lets them fall back to his sides, turning to look away, shame and disappointment flashing over his features. He's reaching for his gloves when Terra grabs his hands and brings them up to cup her breasts again.

"Don't hide from me..." She whispers. Adam holds on, letting the warmth and softness of her breasts form imprints to his palms while she rides on him for her release.

She collapses on his chest to a boneless heap, her silky hair falling over his throat and shoulders. It tickles, but it really doesn't matter when he's still inside of her tight channel and her core keeps constricting around his shaft. He strokes her back lazily, then grabs the gloves and pulls them on before cradling her face and kissing her.

"I don't like my hands. Don't do it again," he whispers. There's no malice in his voice. It's an honest request. Terra nods.

"Just remember... They're part of you, and there's nothing in you that I wouldn't like," she then whispers and moves her hips experimentally. Adam is more than willing to drop the subject of his hands and continue.


End file.
